I wanted to write “stay”
on your sides, surround
your bed with oceans
of salt.
I hope he folds you
into a fox, loves you
like a splintered arrow,
brandishes the kill
of your lips.
May the bouquet
of your hips wither.
May the wolves
forget your name.

J. Bradley

Mots clés good-night j-bradley

Aller à la citation

---

Page 1 de 1.

---

---